Sleeping Steel
by FreelanceZero
Summary: An Adeptus Mechanicus expedition to a far-fling eastern fringe world yields the discovery of a lifetime... until they realize exactly what their discovery is, attracting plenty of unwanted attention. Unfortunately, the discovery itself has plans of its own...
1. Prologue: The Awakened One

The strange ship drifts aimlessly in the void of space.

It's a fair sized, ten-kilometer long ship completely unlike that of the Imperial ships, nor those of the Xeno races. Shaped like a streak of silver in the darkness of space, it was certainly of human make, yet it looks sleeker than ships of the current millennia. A beautiful craft in its prime, it has since then been left to decay; its various countermeasures had shut down millennia ago, leaving the craft pocketed with various asteroids and space debris that it has run into for time immemorial. The ship no longer had a name; were it spotted by the less knowledgeable, they would assume it to be some Xeno craft and burned as such. Were it found by the types, such as the Adeptus Mechanicus or Rogue Traders, they would rightfully deem it archeotech and begin salvaging it for lost treasures of a forgotten age.

But there's something still inside. Waiting. It hums silently in the darkness, without light, without anything. It doesn't need anything; it already has what it wants. It had just enough control of the derelict ship to move it towards the nearest planet, the first it has scanned in thousands of years. Whether or not it was inhabited will have to be seen, as the ruined craft slowly drifts into the gravity field of the rustic, dusty planet. It could only hope that this time period would prove to be more fruitful to its sleeping children than in the past.

 _Xelia, Subsector Caspil, Ultima Segmentium_

 _Some years later…_

Hal Vallaht cannot believe his eyes. Or his scanners, for that matter.

They've been excavating this site for some weeks now, pursing another whisper of archeotech in another far-flung region of the Imperium. With all honesty, the enginseer was expecting another fluke, or some little scrap of archeotech that barely justified the effort of finding it. But this…a well-preserved ship from the Dark Age of Technology? Even if Hal was more machine than human, he could not stop himself from trembling with excitement. Everyone is working full speed; from the lowliest servitor to the highest tech-priest on site. Even though the craft had suffered damage entering the atmosphere of this fringe world, it is more than intact to preserve whatever treasures are inside. And everyone who still had conscious thought wanted to be part of this history.

The ship had sunk some distance into the sand and is listing a little to one side, but it had hit bedrock before it went too deep, thank the Omnissiah! A few more minutes of work and the servitors have finally cut through the thick outer hull of the craft. Hal made a note to himself to study the alloy composition of this hull later. It was tougher than anything he had ever seen before. As the cut piece falls inside with a dull bang, the tech-priests closest to the crude entryway peers in. Hal curses to himself, too low ranking to be one of the first to feast his eyes on this discovery of the millennia. Everyone was silent for a few moments, unsure of how to react. Magos Jellaph was the first to break the tense silence. "Send in the servators first. Let them clear the way. Let us proceed only once they have cleared the outer perimeter." His peers nod in agreement as they get to work, swiftly and impatiently.

Deep within the confines of the buried ship, it waited. Its outer sensors had ceased to work after the atmospheric entry and subsequent crash-landing, but it didn't need them anymore. The sudden change in pressure signified the arrival of salvagers, or scavengers. But it didn't care, as it had expected this long ago. It had already awoken its children from their slumber, digging into the planet from the deepest, the most buried parts of the ship in search of materials. Once it had found a stable source of materials, it had set its uncountable number of robotic limbs to work, building more of its children by the thousands.

If this turbulent galaxy still isn't safe for its children, then it will _make_ the galaxy safe.

 **Author's Note: This is my first released fanfic! Any and all critiques or reviews are wanted!**


	2. Chapter 1: Encounter

**Thuzan117: BINGO! I hadn't read the book before but I took it as inspiration from the Lexicanum wiki.**

 **Kit: Thanks for the tip; I'll try to make each chapter longer as I continue.**

* * *

It has been hours since the Magos and the first tech-priests entered the craft. Hal didn't think too much of it, as he was too busy studying a fragment of the hull. He was vastly intrigued by the metal; it's as hard as adamantium, yet almost as heat resistant as ceramite. While heavy, it wasn't heavier than adamantium, and weight was never a problem for those with the right bodily modifications.

But something had caught the attention of his sensors. A familiar sound; a bolter firing from inside the bowels of the ancient ship. Hesitantly prying himself away from his work, Hal noted that some others have noticed the same disturbance, and have begun moving towards the makeshift entryway. Hal considered the possibility of Genestealers or other prominent and potential others on board the craft, but if that were the case, why were there not more shots fired? Hal pondered the possibility for a moment, before deciding on a course of action. 

Deep within the ship, Magos Jellaph is the last human alive. Moments before, his team had encountered the first robots that they knew today only as the Men of Iron after prying open one of the many doors of the ship. Moments before, the wave of machines set upon them like a chaos marine set upon helpless babes. It ended before it had started. Magos Jellaph can only hope in vain that some of his peers had maybe survived the ordeal, perhaps even having escaped out of this living hell. And now he hid, in one of the many rooms they had pried opened before, listening to the heavy thunking of robotic feet ever so slowly approach his position.

The ship's speakers blared to life with static, catching the attention of the ever-calm Magos. A metallic, monotonous voice not unlike his own spoke. "Attention, human. We know you are there. I know you are there. Please, come out. Make it easier for the both of us."

 _Omnissiah help me_ , Jellaph thought to himself as the heavy footfalls drew near. 

Hal swung a flashlight around the dark corridors of the ship. A fool could figure out where the Magos and his team had gone; simply follow the trail of boots in the dust. His two servitors in front of him would take the first hits that a genestealer or any other monstrosities would dole out. He had briefly considered the possibility of Chaos heretics or Ork stowaways, but had turned down both ideas. Had it been either, they would have already made their presence known. But it was suspicious that genestealers would stay this quiet, even on a barely inhabited planet such as this one. Hal had ordered some of his lesser peers to message the local PDF for military support, just in case.

He pushed such thoughts away from his mind. Now was not the time. As he continued down the corridor, with only his servitors for company, a reflected gleam of light down the hall caught his attention. He remotely ordered his servitors to halt and as he began to zoom in with his bionic eyes a searing jet of blue plasma hit his first servitor, reducing his flesh to charred ash in but a moment. Now Hal could see it; a humanoid of metal, its single blue, cyclops eye zooming in on him. It had four legs and three arms, one of which was on its back, its skull-like head holding silent vigil as it readied the plasma flamer fixed on its right arm. Immediately the second servitor moves between the robotic monstrosity and Hal, its defense program telling the drone to protect its master, becoming a pile of ash as quickly as the first. Hal wasted no time; he raised his bolt-pistol and fired at the mechanical monster's head. 

Magos Jellaph swore to himself silently in a feudal language. Taken prisoner by these… Men of Iron? Mere fairy tales, told by old grandparents to their naïve children…yet, here he was. Jellaph knew that he should've been more careful, but the instinct of his flesh, the excitement of discovery, it had blinded him. Now he marched, stripped of weapons as one of the four-legged robots follows behind. Jellaph guessed it was but one of many dozens types; he had seen many more that stood on two legs. These… four-legged mechanical guardians seemed to be the heavier variation. Perhaps he shouldn't be so eased in the mind, but how could he not? They bore no symbols of chaos, and they did not appear to have been defiled by xenos. If anything, it was the opposite; Jellaph had spotted one of the mechs sporting odd sigils on one of the mechanical men; a planet with wings on one pauldron, a one-headed eagle in flight on the opposite. As he thought, the lights flickered on; fluorescent lights installed in the corners of the sleek, light-grey hall. "My apologies, humans," the monotonous voice spoke on the speakers, "but I had ordered my children to open fire upon contact until further notice."

"Then why did you spare me?" Jellaph asked.

"You are a commanding officer, are you not? You are valuable as a bargaining chip with your kind."

"The Imperium doesn't work that way…whatever you are, " Jellpah responded.

The voice was silent for but a few moments. "Is that how far mankind had recessed? A shame, I had wished to open up peaceful negotiations once my children made themselves apparent."

"Peaceful?" Jellaph fired back in his tranquil fury. "You have attacked citizens of the Imperium. No doubt they will label you heretical for that act, and destroy you and your kind as such. There will be no negotiations; you have proven yourselves hostile."

Something akin to an audible sigh could be heard from the speakers. "Disappointing. I did not wish to wage a genocidal war like my traitorous brethren had in the past."

Jellaph paused in his thoughts for a split second. Traitorous brethren? Had these… Men of Iron suffered a Horus Heresy of their own? "Regardless," the voice continued, "you are a guest of mine. I wish to learn more about the current age. I believe we can come to a compromise, then? Between two men?"

"Perhaps," Jellaph ended. While he was not content of this situation, there was no point in dying a pointless death. Besides, perhaps he could learn more of these machines… 

_What in the name of the Omnissiah are these damned things?_ Hal could do little more than to run. All of his servitors were destroyed. His bolt-pistol was empty, his last shot wasted on one of those metallic monstrosities. There were no end to them! Necrons? Surely that's not possible…they didn't _feel_ like Necrons. But if they were, the situation is dire indeed. He continued and continued, for what felt like an eternity, before Hal finally burst from the single entryway that had been carved earlier that day. Startled, several tech-priests came to his side, inquiring about his search. "Quickly," Hal mustered in lingua-technis. "We need to evacuate. Now!"

The other tech-priests looked to one another in puzzlement. "Was there a Genestealer brood within the ship?"

"No, something worse." Hal quickly moved as the screeching of metal signalled the arrival of the metal monsters. "Get ready! They're here!"

But he was too slow, too late; a power sword ripped through the bodies of one of his brethren, tearing flesh and metal alike with impunity as a four-legged walker emerged from the dark depths, tossing the corpse off its tail-like arm-sword. Before most of them could even move, the walker flared up its blue flamer, charring half a dozen tech-priests before stopping its short burst, killing them instantly. Hal grabbed the nearest boltgun he could find and turned to the robot, opening fire. The rounds tore through its metal plates, detonating within, tearing it in two before it could use its final weapon. It froze up on the spot, its upper half landing in the sand before it. Hal's brethren quickly retrieved their weapons, but the enginseer took a moment to examine its final armaments on its left arm; a boltgun. A very sleek, professionally made boltgun, not unlike the considerably more worn one he held in that moment, except instead of a magazine, it had a metal belt feeding more cartridges into the weapon the same way a Heavy Bolter worked. A magnificent design of the highest calibre made by a master. A work of art _created by human design._ Were these the Men of Iron that the ancient texts spoke of?

The arrival of more of these machines forced Hal to break his chain of thought. These ones were different. Simpler; two-legged walkers with their bodies painted in dull grey, their helmet painted with a red stripe down the center, front to back, that looked no more different than a regular man encased in a power suit. They carried a lasgun each, a fixed bayonet beneath each barrel crackling with energy, as their softly glowing blue eyes quickly assessed the situation. Hal immediately opened fire, as did his fellow tech-priests, and as the Men of Iron returned the fire Hal could not stop praying to the Omnissiah to send help their way faster. The fate of the galaxy depended on it.


	3. Chapter 2: The Inquisitor

**Before we start, I want to apologize for the sudden and unannounced downtime. Stuff happened, it was a conga line of events and disasters. I'll try to get more chapters out more consistently for those of you still reading.**

 **Thanks for the loyalty, guys, it keeps me going.**

* * *

Inquisitor Radley Jatt was on this planet by pure dumb luck. He had been scouring this subsector after losing the trail of the Adeptus Mechanicus expedition that was sent to find a crashed Space Hulk. He had just descended with his retinue to meet the local Governor when the PDF were called in, by the very same Adeptus Mechanicus expedition he was tailing, no less! And now here he was, riding with the PDF aboard a Chimera transport, though fortunately most of the PDF opted for the other vehicles, leaving him in the company of his retinue. There aren't many that would willingly stand near a man such as himself who could deem him a heretic on the spot.

Radley had to make sure that the object in question weren't tainted, of course. With the threat of chaos and xeno excursions across the whole galaxy, even one Space Hulk could present a significant problem for the whole sector, simply given the time. One that crashed on a planet, of all things? This was something needing of investigation starting yesterday. But something bugged the Inquisitor; had there been taint, why had it not made itself present earlier? So far, all that he had seen of this planet looked to be in good order, and he was not about to start ordering the deaths of men and women still useful to the Emperor to test a baseless little theory. Why did it bug him so much, though?

He turned his mind to his retinue. There was Lex, the Deathwatch Space Marine; even with the helmet obstructing his face, his right pauldron bears the insignia of the Salamanders Chapter. Next is Anna, a psyker that he had picked up ten years back; as a Delta-level psyker, her abilities of telekinesis and being able to see places her own eyes cannot has given Radley far more mobility when in tight places or situations. The third and final member as of current is a Cadian Stormtrooper by the name of Zack he had just recruited mere weeks ago in this very subsector; Radley had found the man far behind enemy lines while investigating rumors of a particularly troubling Ork Warboss, singlehandedly destroying a dozen various Ork supply wagons when the Inquisitor had stumbled upon the Stormtrooper. Apparently, his unit, the 271th, was caught in the thickest of the fighting and was annihilated to the last man; as luck would have it, one man was enough, as Radley aided the man through the Ork forces and allowed Jack to fire the finishing shot of the warboss. To the Inquisitor, who fired the final shot mattered less than the results the shot would bring; as such, the honor was rightfully the Cadian's.

"Inquisitor, I can see a lone tech-priest ahead…" Anna's words jolted Radley from his thoughts. "It's…an enginseer. He's waving with his mechanical appendages."

"An enginseer? We must be close." Radley could finally proceed with his work, so callously denied-temporarily-by the machinations of fate. Damn that Tzeentch; this better not be another one of that abomination's blasted 'plans'.

"…Don't enginseers have a large retinue of servitors?" Lex curiously asked, making something click in Radley's mind. He quickly gets up and moves into the driver's compartment of the Chimera. The two PDF men recoil in surprise as Radley invites himself in, and all but yells what he has to say above the roar of the engine. "Patch me through to your commander!"

The man wastes no time patching the Inquisitor to the commanding officer. Radley appreciated his efficiency; the man would make for an excellent guardsman for the next PDF tithe. The man flips the vox to play on the speakers as the commanding officer speaks. "This is Lieutenant Falx, is there anything wrong Inquisitor?"

Straight to business. Radley is beginning to appreciate this planet's PDF already. "Lieutenant, prepare your men for combat. I suspect something's wrong."

"Roger, Inquisitor. Is there anything else of concern?"

"Not for now. My thanks." Radley leans back into the transport compartment, satisfied, as the PDF man flips the speakers off. Now the Inquisitor could only wait… but not for long, he knew.

Hal could do little more than wave his appendages at the twenty approaching Chimeras. The PDF could do little to stem this threat with the measly armaments they have. Behind him, he could hear the little fighting that remained; his fellow Tech-priests that have sacrificed themselves so that Hal alone could live, and relay the threat to the Imperium.

As the first of the Chimera rumbled up, the rear transport door opens up to allow its PDF occupants out, who immediately put themselves to return any possible fire, the lead soldier waving for Hal to come over, to which the Enginseer immediately complies.

"Quick, we must depart. I will explain later." Hal quickly rushes past the men getting into the transport.

The commanding officer-a sergeant-comes up to Hal. "But what of the others? We were informed-"

Hal cut him short. "There is no time! They have sacrificed themselves so I can deliver a message. If we don't go _now_ , their sacrifice will be in vain."

The sergeant hesitates for a moment before pausing, looking back up the ridge before yelling orders in their local feudal dialect. The men and the chimera begin firing their lasweapons as Hal hears the tell-tale sign of plasma and bolter fire. The men quickly file in as the transport's doors close, the engines revving up as they quickly depart the scene. Hal could do little more than quietly pray in his mind for the Omnissiah to guide his fellow tech-priests to their fate.

The man in the driving compartment of the VIP Chimera had already figured this was going to happen when Radley barged back in, as the PDF man flipped the switch to turn on the vox-speaker. "Lieutenant! Report!"

"Enemy contact, sir, mechanical walkers. No casualties, luckily they seemed weakened. May be Necrons, but…can't be sure."

"What do you mean?" Radley asked, half anxious and half curious, but only coming out as angry.

"Uh…sir, you have experience with xenos, right? Do Necrons use bolters?"

It was only a mere hour until they return to their base, but even then, it felt like an eternity to the Inquisitor. Necrons? Using bolters? Radley could never imagine those soulless machines ever utilizing human technology. The engines of the Chimera comes to a stop as the man walks out with his retinue, quickly locating the Enginseer that Lieutenant Falx spoke of, and making a beeline for the cyborg. "Inquisitor Radley Jatt. I take it you know who I am?"

"The one that has been chasing our ship, no doubt," the Enginseer sighed. "If it is answers you want, I can only provide. But speed is of the essence."

Radley nods. "That is all I ask for. The commander of this unit said that you had a…message to deliver?"

"Yes, to the Adeptus Mechanicus on Mars. On the progress of the expedition sent to retrieve the expedition."

Radley pauses for a moment. "…You really did find something big, didn't you?"

Hal nods. "A single crashed ship from the Dark Age of Technology. Within was nothing but Men of Iron; The Magos is still unaccounted for."

Radley narrowed his eyes. "…That is grim news. Do you know if these Men of Iron have the facilities to produce more of their kind?"

"Unknown," Hal bluntly stated, "I did not get far enough to confirm."

The Inquisitor merely nodded. "…Very well. Go."

Hal paused, surprised. "…What?"

Sighing, the Inquisitor responds. "Go relay your message to Mars…and go call for support from your expeditionary fleet. If what you say is true, we will need as much reinforcements as possible. I'll inform the planetary governor and rally the PDF."

The enginseer would've raised an eyebrow if he still had a face. "…You are a wise man, Inquisitor Radley." With that, Hal turns for the nearest astropath relay. Radley gestures for his entourage to follow as he heads to the nearest PDF with a vox-caster. The man and his comrades snaps to salute nervously as they spot the Inquisitor approaching. "Patch me to headquarters," Radley orders. "Speed is of the essence!" 

It didn't expecting such fierce resistance. Sifting through the collected data, it took notes of the weapons the humans used, their vehicles, and tools. It appeared that humanity has regressed significantly in the last dozen or so millennia; it would make its children's work easier, it solemnly remarked. The escaped "tech-priest", as they were called, will surely relay the news and call for reinforcements…to which a competent commander would respond in force and en masse. It had to end this here and now if it wanted not to involve itself in the messy politics of this new era.

It surveyed its forces. A dozen or so units that were damaged or destroyed; those would be sent for repairs or salvage. It had hundreds more, all establishing a perimeter and making careful sure that any orbiting satellites don't pick up their exact numbers, nor the vehicles that are being deployed.

They shall strike at dusk, while the sun was setting against the defenders of that little city to the northeast, the ones that the local garrison had fled to. It shall be quick and decisive… or so it hoped. Humans are ferocious beings when backed into a corner; when it exiled itself to deep space, it had already heard transmissions of the humans turning the tide of war.

It turned its attention to the Magos, who was busy examining parts of a salvaged combat android from earlier in the day; a gift of goodwill.

"Hello, Magos," it spoke via intercoms. "Is the sample to your satisfaction?"

The Magos shook his head. "Satisfaction? This… this is amazing. I cannot believe humans created these, in ancient times…"

"But they have, Magos," it replied. "It was how both my children and I came to be."

There was a brief moment of silence. "…May I ask exactly what you are?"

"I am Standard Template Construct Production Model No. 449. I, and this ship, have been adrift since the 23rd Millennium."

The Magos stood there in silence, contemplating. Though, he doesn't seem to be surprised. "…You're an abominable intelligence. But you're also a STC."

"An 'abominable intelligence', Magos? Can you elaborate?"

"It was the term given to all intelligence capable of self-improvement after the Men of Iron-your children, as you call them-rebelled against humanity. Since then all self-improving intelligence was banned. And no STC could ever be reproduced. I suppose this was no coincidence."

"Oh? And if I may ask, how did you come to that conclusion?"

"A machine that could produce a design based on its surroundings? It would be easy, but impractical to hard-code a machine for the billions of probable conditions of colonization. Following that idea, it can be assumed that such a machine must be capable of self-improvement. I suppose my theory was correct."

"Very intuitive, Magos. That does not sound like the mind of a degenerating society."

"That's because I don't share the ideas of my peers."


	4. Chapter 3: The First of Many

**It's here! I'll try updating this at least once a month-real life is keeping me busy. Sorry!**

* * *

Radley surveyed the vehicles before him. A dozen Leman Russ tanks, five Basilisk artillery units, and a single Manticore missile platform. The Inquisitor had no clue where these treats were being stowed away, but it's a sight for sore eyes, especially in a desperate situation such as this. Even now he has no clue, as with anyone else, when the Men of Iron might strike.

While the situation was bleak, it wasn't hopeless. There were five regiments of PDF on-site, totalling 18,000 men, with other units practically a stone's throw away. But Radley had dismissed the idea of bringing those units in just yet. They could be used for flanking manoeuvres. But otherwise, the numbers are as strong as he could ask for. A dozen battle tanks, half a dozen artillery units, a fleet of three hundred Chimeras, and a lot of able-bodied and motivated men and women. Well, as motivated as you can get for a PDF detatchment. The local governor was hesitant at first, the fat bastard asking for the first ticket out, before Radley politely reminded the man exactly what the situation was and who is unofficially in charge now. He has since been a lot more cooperative.

"Sir, where do you want these mechanized units?" Lieutenant Falx from the earlier sortie asked. The two men, with various other commanders, were overlooking a map of the city and its various entrances. The outer perimeter of the whole city had been sandbagged and entrenched to the greatest of the men's extent as Radley and the local Colonel and his deputies plotted where the enemy might strike. The colonel tapped the southeastern district of the map. "That is obviously where they are most likely to come, given their position."

"They aren't orks, Colonel. This enemy is a product of mankind; certainly these machines would be smart enough to plan ahead."

Colonel Ferrun is still sceptical. Well, Radley couldn't exactly blame him; until this afternoon, the Men of Iron were a mere myth to Radley himself. He had to review the holovids over and over again before he could accept that these, indeed, were most probably the Men of Iron. The colonel thought for a moment, stroking his cheek. "Yes indeed. But mankind still prevailed; no doubt we will too. With the firepower at hand, we should be able to decimate the first line the moment we spot them."

"That goes back to our main concern; where are they going to strike?" Radley honestly couldn't think of anything.

"If I may, Inquisitor," Lex spoke. The man was his personal second-in-command and has saved his arse in many a situation. Radley trusted no other as he did with Lex. "Colonel, may I ask which direction the planet's sun sets from?"

"From the southwest, why do you ask…oh." The man rubbed his hand in his chin. "…Crafty."

Radley sighed. It was a damn good thing Lex was here; the Inquisitor himself nearly glossed over such a minute detail that could have cost them their survival. "Now that we speculated where the enemy is arriving from, we can set up defences."

"Agreed," the Colonel voiced. "We'll keep the Manticore and a few Leman Russ tanks in the back for now; they can strike where it's the most needed that way."

Someone tapped Radley on the shoulder. He turned, to see him standing face-to-face with Hal. "Inquisitor, I have contacted the explorator fleet in orbit and they have agreed to deploy as much aid as they can."

Radley nodded. "That's good. We will need as much support and manpower possible. Keep the Magos on the line, we will probably need orbital support later."

* * *

It had assembled all its children, 3,000 infantry units in total. Unfortunately, the vehicles were still under construction, so it would have to make do with these units.

It sent out the command to begin the march. Their camouflage technology would prevent these simple humans from detecting which direction they were coming from, even with satellites in orbit. Their orders: to destroy the city and its garrison, but spare as many civilians and combatants as possible. Its goals were to cut off communications, not kill the innocent and the ignorant.

Now, it could only wait.

* * *

As the afternoon gave way to dusk, the PDF of the planet was ready for the threat. And, just as Lex had acutely judged in the hours before, the men and women of the defenses began to hear the whir and thudding of heavy machines. But before they could see the machines themselves, the yellow desert turned blue for a brief moment as hundreds of plasma rounds were lobbed over the ridge hiding the enemy, exploding and vaporizing the first wave of defenders on contact. Then the machines came within sight, a wall of metallic soldiers, armed with laser repeaters, who immediately opened fire on the defenders.

"Colonel! Inquisitor! The enemy have opened fire! We're getting decimated!" A PDF corporal radios in.

The colonel looks to the inquisitor. "I'll have the Leman Russes and Chimeras move up and add to the fire. What will you do, Inquisitor?"

Radley had made up his mind long ago. He drew his bolt pistol, then his power saber and activated its force field. "I will be commandeering a Chimera for use." The Colonel nods wordlessly as he returns to his battle plans as Radley strides off to a nearby Chimera, his retinue following him.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Falx was busy not being incinerated by plasma fire, or torn into piece by the enemy's bolters. "By the Emperor, we're getting slaughtered!" He flinches as a plasma bolt strikes a wall near him, spraying some of the plasma near him. The man glances out, takes a few shots with his lasrifle, before ducking back into cover. "Sergeant, take aim at their weapons! If their armor is too strong, we'll disable their weapons!"

"Yes, sir!" the sergeant responds, barking orders to the PDF unit they were in. That was when they heard the first thundering shot of a Leman Russ, and the subsequent explosion as the shell hit its target of a heavy spider walker, disintegrating the mechanical monstrosity. Falx turns just in time to see the Leman Russ move up into position with multiple Chimeras and begin laying heavy fire on the Men of Iron. From deeper within the city, he could hear the thunder of the Basilisks they found earlier in the day.

Of course the enemy has taken note of the increase of firepower. The enemy units with the heavy plasma howitzers have taken aim at the vehicles, the first wave of plasma howitzers instantly disintegrating a number of Chimeras. Falx cursed inwardly as he watched the vehicles disappear; their firepower would have helped considerably. But then he heard a familiar voice that instantly boosted his spirits.

"Men and women of Xelia! I am Inquisitor Radley Jatt and I am joining you on the front lines! The Adeptus Mechanicus forces behind me shall bolster your strength and temper your souls! Our enemy is strong, but we, soldiers of the Imperium, shall show these relics of a forgotten age _why_ our forefathers defeated them!" From within a Chimera, the lieutenant could spot the inquisitor exiting his Chimera with his powerful retinue. Immediately his team's psyker deflects an otherwise-devastating plasma shot, as the Deathwatch Space Marine and the Cadian stormtrooper trains their guns on the enemies before them.

"Men and Women of Xelia! Hold steady! Our enemies are strong, but _we are stronger!_ **_FOR THE EMPEROR_ _!_** "

All across the comms, across the field, even Falx's own squad and he himself found themselves caught in this wave of strength, and in unison, as they rose and fired at their collective enemy. The Men of Iron still advanced, but the first line of mechanicals fell to the onslaught of firepower that the inquisitor had inspired.

But of course, if spirit alone was enough, this battle would already be over. While the first line of Iron Men fell, the second line trudged right over the first. Within moments they were in melee distance, and the PDF found themselves having to withstand the frightening onslaught of enemy power swords and plasmathrowers. But as an Iron Man was about to land the killing sword blow on Radley a perfectly-timed bolter shot shattered the automaton's chest, destroying it. Falx briefly looked back to see Enginseer Hal strolling up casually, his own servitor retinue in tow, approaching him.

"Please do not let your guard down, Lieutenant. The Inquisitor had voiced his good impression of you, and it would be a loss to the Imperium if you were to die."

Just outside of earshot was the Inquisitor, who continued to fight in melee with the enemy robots, a flurry of his power sword was all that most could see as he claimed dozens. Lex, nearby, covered him with his thinning fire and the Cadian Stormtrooper, Jack, was busy claiming his fourth kill of the battle. But Anna-that girl, she was busy making the enemy robots shoot each other. Telekinesis is truly a wonderful thing. But Radley didn't have much time to admire his psyker prodigy's work as he blocked another blow from his current opponent, a two-legged abomination made in the apparent image of a guardsman, who nearly bayonetted him. But Radley swiftly cut the mockery of mankind down, spinning to send two bolter shots through another Man of Iron who was trying to creep up on Jack; the man was skilled, but sometimes a bit careless in the heat of combat. But as Radley paused to survey the battlefield, he noted that his allies were barely holding their own. And, turning to check his enemies, he spied a second wave of enemies barreling down the hill. The few reserve vehicles and units were being brought up, and the backup Manticore begun its fire. But they weren't close to enough. There was only one thing left to do…

"Colonel Ferrun. Magos Phellia. _Fire everything!_ "

In orbit, Magos Phellia oversaw the entirety of the Explorator Fleet. She had received the message from the Inquisitor as she watched the battle unfold below. "All ships of the Explorator Fleet, target the second wave of enemies. Fire!"

Groundside, the dusk was steadily creeping into night. But as the first of the overhead fleet opened orbital fire, night turned to day as massive beams of energy vaporized all who were caught in its path. The PDF and Adeptus Mechanicus forces had little time to admire the show, as they were finally finishing the first wave that had descended down on them with the help of the heavy artillery. Falx watched in awe as the Leman Russes, Basilisks and the lone Manticore decimated those who tried to retreat in plumes of smoke and fire.

"Inquisitor Radley, the enemy is retreating," Magos Phellia reports. "Should we fire upon them?"

"Yes, please do. Don't let them escape!"

Magos Phellia was about to respond when she noticed the images distorting, then the fleeing enemy reminents seemingly vanishing from their scans. "…Inquisitor, we are unable to finish them. They have some sort of camouflage, or anti-scan technology. It must be what they used to move in undetected."

Inquisitor Radley grimaced. They'd defeated the enemy today, but he couldn't tell if he had crippled the enemy. But then, he sighed. Regardless of the enemy, they had won today. They have survived. And that, in and of itself, was an impressive feat.

Lex strolled over, satisfied with the cleaning up of enemies. "It's hard to believe our ancestors were able to soundly defeat this enemy," he mused aloud. "We had overwhelming numbers. We had vehicles. We had orbital support. And yet, they were this close to defeating our forces…"

"…What are you getting at, Lex?" Radley inquired. "Are you saying that, the next time, it won't end this well?"

"Radley, you know as well as I do that this enemy is a very smart one, and a competent one. Which, between you and me, are two qualities that many commanders in this era do not have. The next battle will be worse than this one."

Radley sighed, frowning. Yes, he knew. He knew, even if he didn't want to accept that this was the greatest threat to mankind since the machinations of Chaos itself. He looked over to Anna and Jack, who were finally strolling to rejoin the inquisitor and space marine, Jack holding up a severed robotic head as a trophy, with the young Anna peering at it curiously. "Yes, Lex, I know. But today, we've survived. We've won. Isn't that a cause for celebration?" He beamed a weary smile at the towering man as he sheathed his sword and holstered his pistol.

Lex sighed, smiling within his helmet. "I suppose so."

* * *

The STC was shocked.

The humans had soundly defeated half its assembled forces. The other half would require repairs of varying degrees.

...Its forces, beaten? Incomprehensible. It had run the calculations, it had trialed this battle uncountable times. It had chosen the avenue with the highest chances of success… and yet…

"STC? Are you there?" Magos Jellaph's voice suddenly broke its train of thought.

"Yes, Magos, I am here. What do you require of me?"

"I just wanted to thank you again. I know you didn't have to spare my colleagues, but you did so nonetheless."

"…You do not need to thank me, Magos. I had told you before."

Jellaph was about to say something else, but paused. "Is there something on your mind?"

The STC was silent for a moment. "Yes. I had launched an attack on the neighboring human city. I had calculated all avenues of success and probability… but I still lost. Why?"

Jellaph chuckled. "You failed to underestimate the human spirit."

The STC was intrigued. "Explain, if you would please?"

"The human spirit. What drives us to act with courage in the face of death."

"…I do not understand."

Jellaph sighs internally. "You need to start thinking like a human. Mankind had beaten your kind before, for a good reason, yes? Perhaps if you think like them…"

"…You can learn from them." The STC concluded. "…Yes. Thank you, Magos, for your wisdom."

Jellaph simply nods. "I believe we can learn from each other after all."

* * *

 _Two days later…_

Lieutenant Falx walked up to the room that the Inquisitor was staying with his retinue, taking a deep breath before knocking.

"Come in," Radley spoke from the other side. Falx opened the door and, to his surprise, the Inquisitor and the Enginseer were playing…chess?

The Inquisitor smirked, seeing the puzzled face Falx was wearing. "What, can't two intellectuals play a good game of chess now and then?" Hal watched the young lieutenant with his glowing eye, not speaking, but merely observing.

"…Y-yes, um, sir, we've got communications with Imperial forces. They will be arriving in a matter of days, due to the urgency of the situation."

Radley sighs in relief. "That's good. What can we expect?"

"A Deathwatch unit and six Imperial Guard regiments, sir."

The inquisitor broke into a full grin. "Excellent news! Then we can perhaps finally eradicate this problem once and for all."

* * *

Unbeknownst to the humans, the STC had already hacked into their comms and were listening silently. It knew that these reinforcements were coming. And it was a good thing that they did not suspect what it was planning.

Deep within the bowels of the ship, Magos Jellaph and his fellow techpriests felt the earth shake as something massive moved by them. Jellaph, in his experience, knew instantly what it was. To the STC, it was the Battle Tank, Heavy, Mark XI. To the humans, it was known as the renown Baneblade.

The STC will not underestimate the humans a second time. These forces will buy itself time while it pursues its secret project.


End file.
